


Achilles' Lament

by SuddenlySullen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Hand Jobs, M/M, Manipulation, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23049487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuddenlySullen/pseuds/SuddenlySullen
Summary: "Will," Hannibal moves a hand to his cheek. He drops his voice slightly, giving it the sound of being freshly woken up. "Will, you need to wake up."Will pulls away as he becomes aware of himself. There's a look of relief in Will's eyes, in the moment between being awake and asleep, when he sees Hannibal. An honest reaction. He's relieved that Hannibal is the one waking him. It's quickly replaced with confusion and panic. He leans just slightly into Hannibal's hand on his face while his eyes dart between their bodies. When he tries to yank himself away, Hannibal tightens his fingers around the back of his neck. Not enough to force Will to stay, but enough to let him know that he can. And he does.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 193
Collections: Wendigo & Stag





	Achilles' Lament

Will shakes his head. "I've got to get back and feed the dogs. My neighbor did yesterday but I need to get back to them." 

"We can take a plane in the morning, Will," Jack's voice is raised even though he isn't trying to yell. His brows raise when he looks at Hannibal, asking for backup. 

Hannibal looks between them. "Jack is right, Will. I will have a trusted friend look after your dogs for the night." 

"I just want to go home," Will's eyes are pleading when he looks at Hannibal. 

"I know you do. And we will get you there. You have my word. First thing in the morning." Hannibal grips his shoulder in a firm hand. 

Will nods shakily. Jack and Hannibal share a glance before Hannibal uses that hand to guide Will to the car. Will chooses to sit in the back seat and Hannibal follows, whether that was the intention or not. The hotel they find isn't the nicest, but it's close and it has rooms. 

Jack holds up two sets of keys. "We've got two rooms, boys. Single and a double. We wanna draw straws?" 

"I'm rooming with Doctor Lecter," Will says. There is no room for argument in his tone. 

Jack's eyebrows pinch together the same way they do when he's examining a crime scene. He's suspicious or perhaps offended by the immediate response. Hannibal shrugs and takes one of the keys from Jack. He keeps his face even, betraying none of the satisfaction he feels at knowing that Will's immediate thought was to go to him and not Jack. Will follows him silently until the door of their room has closed behind them. 

"I hope I haven't, uh, overstepped, Doctor Lecter. I just- You're already in my head. You know what I dream about. I don't need Jack-"

"It's quite alright, Will," Hannibal offers him a slight smile. "I don't want to sleep in the same room as Jack Crawford either."

"Thanks," Will sighs. 

Will pulls off his clothing almost immediately. He climbs into bed in his boxers, face turned towards Hannibal. It isn't long before his breathing begins to settle. The calm before the storm. Hannibal takes off his shoes and hangs his suit jacket on one of the hangers in the room. He rolls up his sleeves before he lies down on top of his sheets with a book open on his tablet to wait for the restlessness he knows will come for Will Graham so that he may try to quiet it. 

Close to one in the morning, Will rises from his bed. Hannibal sets his tablet down on the nightstand between their beds. He waits while Will stands next to him. Will's whole body is soaked with sweat. His muscles are tense from his shoulders down to his toes. 

Will steps forward, almost like he means to keep walking, and instead his knees meet the side of Hannibal's mattress. He climbs into the bed clumsily and directly on top of Hannibal. Of all the scenarios Hannibal had considered, Will sleepwalking into his bed had not been among them. Now that the opportunity presents itself, though, he finds that he is burning with curiosity about what exactly Will is going to do. 

What Will does is press his knee up between Hannibal's thighs. It's a firm pressure without being too insistent. The smell of him hangs heavy in the air, underneath the sweat and dirt still clinging to his skin and the cheap hotel detergent on the sheets. It makes Hannibal's mouth water. One of Will's hands paws at the hem of Hannibal's shirt. It's firm, but sloppy. Hannibal twines his hands carefully around Will's to unbutton his own shirt. For good measure, he tears a few of them off and sends them flying. Shirts, after all, can be replaced. This moment may never present itself again. Before his hands have even fallen the rest of the way to the mattress, Will's calloused palm is moving up his stomach and chest. He grips into the flesh over Hannibal's ribs hard enough to bruise. He's stronger than he lets everyone think he is. It draws out a soft noise of discomfort from the back of Hannibal's throat. Hannibal squirms a bit under Will's grip and is met with the heel of Will's palm pushing into his chest, keeping him pinned in place. 

The thin boxer shorts do nothing to hide Will's growing erection and in his sleeping state, his face shows no hint of embarrassment. Hannibal regrets that he can't see Will's eyes, but doesn't dare make any move to wake him yet. Will sits up briefly and pulls his sweat-dampened t-shirt over his head. The dark curls on his chest shine in the tiny bit of light coming from under the bathroom door. Hannibal takes the opportunity to unclasp his own pants and push them down just far enough to reveal his still-soft penis. 

When Will's heat returns, they are pressed chest to chest. Hannibal can feel every shaky breath that Will takes. He can feel the way Will's heart is hammering away in his chest. Will's head falls forward into the bed, turning slightly to press his face into the side of Hannibal's neck. He doesn't kiss so much as he drags his open mouth up the side of Hannibal's neck and face. Hannibal rocks his hips up into Will's, both testing the weight of him and seeking to give him the friction he clearly craves but won't take. 

Will groans directly next to Hannibal's ear. It's an honest, feral sound that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He grinds down into Hannibal, pushing every contact point for more. Hannibal can feel himself hardening against Will. He turns slightly and allows himself to breathe in the smell of Will without his cologne. He smells like a sweaty, dirty man with several dogs, for certain, but with a distinct sweetness about him. 

"Nnngh," Will presses his forehead harder into Hannibal's neck. He's rolling his hips desperately on Hannibal's leg, his own thigh pushing up into Hannibal's cock.

"Will," Hannibal moves a hand to his cheek. He drops his voice slightly, giving it the sound of being freshly woken up. "Will, you need to wake up."

Will pulls away as he becomes aware of himself. There's a look of relief in Will's eyes, in the moment between being awake and asleep, when he sees Hannibal. An honest reaction. He's relieved that Hannibal is the one waking him. It's quickly replaced with confusion and panic. He leans just slightly into Hannibal's hand on his face while his eyes dart between their bodies. When he tries to yank himself away, Hannibal tightens his fingers around the back of his neck. Not enough to force Will to stay, but enough to let him know that he can. And he does.

"Did I…" Will meets Hannibal's eyes, looking desperate for an explanation. 

Hannibal shakes his head slightly. "You were asleep." 

"That isn't an excuse, Doctor Lecter." Will's chest heaves. "Fuck. I could have-" 

"You didn't," Hannibal reminds him. "You have nothing to worry about, Will." 

"I'm not sure this counts as 'nothing'," Will sighs. 

"Perhaps not," Hannibal concedes. "But now we are faced with a choice. The way I see things, we can go back to sleep now and pursue the cause of this particular case of sleepwalking later or you can give your conscious mind what the unconscious clearly desires." He swallows thickly. It's a risk, being so forward. A risk he wouldn't usually take with anyone, but especially not a patient. One he hopes will pay off with Will. 

"I don't think psychiatrists are supposed to have sex with patients." Will's voice is low and edged with the tone he uses when he just wants to see what Hannibal will do. 

"You think your unconscious mind is craving sex?" Hannibal cocks his head to one side. 

Will swallows and Hannibal can feel the muscles move under his hand. "I did almost rape you. Does that make me your worst patient?"

Hannibal shrugs. "Technically you are not my patient in any context. In this context, you are my friend and colleague." 

"Have many of your colleagues have dry humped you in their sleep?" There's a soft kind of resignation in Will's voice and Hannibal knows that he's won. 

Hannibal smiles, giving Will the slightest glimpse of his teeth. "You would be the first." 

Will nods. Hannibal considers his options heavily before sitting up on his elbow to just barely brush his mouth against Will's. It isn't a kiss. Not until Will leans into it and makes it one. He kisses bruisingly hard, with teeth and tongue. It's every bit as violent as Hannibal had hoped Will could be. Hannibal growls in the back of his throat, returning the bites. 

Hannibal drops one of his hands between them so that he can push Will's boxers down just far enough to access his cock. When his hand circles both of them, Will lets out the most delicious high pitched whimper directly into his mouth. Will's thighs quiver. His mouth drops to Hannibal's collarbones, where he bites down with enough force that Hannibal thinks he may have drawn blood. The thought of Will consuming any part of him has his hand speeding up around them. Will's mouth does not stop. If anything, he seems encouraged by the needy noises he's ripping from Hannibal's throat. He works over Hannibal's chest with lips and tongue and teeth, finding all of the places Hannibal most aches to feel him and working over them again and again. When he moans - a high, needy sound - the vibrations move through him straight into Hannibal's chest. Hannibal's fingers work their way up into Will's hair, curling against his scalp. 

"So close," Will whimpers into the hollow of Hannibal's throat. He adds a soft press of teeth for good measure, both a promise and a threat. "Don't stop."

Hannibal tips his head back, baring all of his neck for Will to ravage. His hand over them doesn't stop, he's not sure he could force it to if he tried. One of Will's hands is clawing at his hip, the other fisted tight in the sheets. His whole body tenses just before he sinks his teeth hard into the side of Hannibal's neck and his cock starts to jerk and dribble over Hannibal's hand. The bite and the soft noises of overstimulation that are buried in it send Hannibal over the edge into his own orgasm not long after. 

Will stays lying on top of him for several long moments. His mouth is soft where it kisses and licks along the various marks he's left on Hannibal's throat and chest, almost apologetic. When Hannibal tips his face down to look at him, he's struck with the image of Nikolai Ge's portrait of Achilles mourning the death of Patroclus. It is a bit ironic, he thinks, that his brain should cast Will as Achilles when it was he himself who had laid down corpses for Will.

"Shhh, it's alright, Will," Hannibal murmurs, voice slightly strained. 

Will rolls just slightly to one side, keeping half of his body draped over Hannibal and his face pressed to Hannibal's neck. Hannibal keeps his hand at the back of Will's head, half for lack of desire to move it and half for fear that moving it might encourage Will back into his own bed. Will settles easily back into sleep once he seems to be satisfied that he has caused Hannibal no permanent damage. Hannibal follows soon after, enjoying the few hours of sleep with Will pressed against his side.

Hannibal wakes with the sun, taking the time before Will is awake to take a pen and the pad of hotel paper from the nightstand and sketch Will as he had looked the night before. He tries to capture the concern in his brows and the softness in his mouth, even as the pen fills in the bite marks on his sketch of himself. His own face isn't fully visible, instead turned upward to allow him to capture all of the marks currently stinging across his body. 

"It's creepy to watch people sleep," Will grumbles before opening his eyes. "Or so I'm told."

Hannibal smiles. "Not watching. Referencing. Would you like to see?" 

There's a soft sigh from Will before he stumbles out of the bed, tugging his boxers up as he moves. He comes to stand over Hannibal's shoulder, taking in the rough sketch. "That's me." 

"It is," Hannibal turns and presses a kiss to Will's stomach, unsure quite what the motivation is other than his own desire to have contact with Will. 

Will looks down and seems to notice the bruises that aren't covered by Hannibal's shirt. His fingertips dance over them. "God, I did this to you. I'm so sorry, Hannibal." 

Hannibal catches Will's hand in one of his own and brings it to his mouth, kissing each of his fingertips. "No apology necessary. If it were an issue, Will, I would have told you so." 

A sigh falls from Will's lips. "Did you and Alana plan this when she recommended you?" 

"If I had known how wonderful you are I might have tried harder to make a good first impression," Hannibal smiles. "Though I can't say I regret that we're here. Do you?"

"No," Will smiles. A rare, genuine smile that reaches up towards his eyes. 

"Breakfast, then?" 

Will looks towards the clock. "I'm not sure this place does breakfast or even what time." 

Hannibal clicks his tongue disapprovingly. "Come, Will. Surely you know me much better than to think I would eat food prepared here." 

"Of course not," Will shakes his head. "What was I thinking?"

"Fortunately for you, I always bring extra." He stands and pulls the containers from the mini fridge. "Sausage omelettes and," he produces a thermos and deposits it in front of Will, "I even brought coffee." 

"If you're not careful, Hannibal, I might marry you." 

Hannibal is sure that the pleased look doesn't leave his face for the entirety of their breakfast. He's certain that Will can feel it radiating off of him as truly as if it were his own emotion, but finds that he doesn't want to force himself to contain it. At least for a little longer, they can just exist as their honest selves before putting their person suits back on to face the world.

  
  



End file.
